The Prospective Wife (13 page)

‘Tell me straight, would I be treading on your toes if I—’

Startled, Kat looked over at her friend and saw a defiant grin appear on Emma’s face.

‘—get close and personal…?’ she asked in an abrupt way.

It would seem pushing wouldn’t be needed!

Kat swallowed past the aching constriction in her throat. ‘Would it matter if you were?’ It was a bit late to remember how ruthlessly focused Emma could be when she wanted something.

‘You don’t pinch your best friend’s feller…it’s a definite no-no.’

This was a nightmare, and the irony was she had nobody but herself to blame for it. ‘Well, he’s not my feller.’ Her smile carefully consigned the notion to comic fiction. ‘I’ve only known him forty-eight hours. Hardly long enough to build up a deep and meaningful relationship.’

‘What’s time got to do with it?’

What, indeed? Kat found herself resenting Emma’s simplistic outlook on life. She took a deep breath and smiled.

‘Go for it!’ she advised briskly. ‘As long as you remember he’s recuperating.’

‘I’ll be very gentle,’ Emma promised with a cat’s-got-the-cream look on her face. ‘I’ve got to go,’ she said, glancing at her watch. ‘I’ll see you soon.’ She blew a kiss in Kat’s direction.

‘Wait!’ Kat cried, scrambling to her feet hurriedly. She barely noticed the sundry items she’d knocked off the dressing table in her haste.

‘What?’ Emma, hand on the doorhandle, stood looking at her expectantly.

‘Do you really think it’s a good idea to do anything drastic so soon?’ She saw Emma’s elegant eyebrows lift and rushed on awkwardly. ‘I’m not saying you shouldn’t, but you don’t actually really
know
Matt…’

Emma gave a little gasp; her dark eyes widened dramatically. ‘Oh, my, I’m being dense here, aren’t I? You can’t stand the idea of anyone else touching him, can you?’

‘No! Definitely not. No way… Of course not…!’ In her anxiety to deny this claim the words came tumbling out in an incoherent jumble from Kat’s mouth.

Emma looked at her friend’s pink face sympathetically. She smiled that mysterious sphinx-like smile which even now, Kat decided miserably, Matt was probably fantasising about.

‘I don’t care who he touches.’

Emma patted her shoulder and gave her a quick hug. ‘Sure you don’t,’ she agreed equably. ‘I know this might sound strange coming from me, after I’ve been coming on like a right little…’ She gave a tiny self-conscious grimace. ‘But, you see, I know what it’s like to love someone so much you’d do—’ She broke off and took a deep breath. ‘Just be careful.’

‘Oh, I’m not going to do anything…’

‘Whatever,’ Emma agreed immediately, ‘I take it I’m not required for pool duty any more?’

What could she say? Utterly mortified, Kat watched the door close. If Emma had guessed, how long would it be before…? With a loud wail she threw herself on the bed.

Kat had taken care dressing that evening. Her make-up was soft and subtle; it made her eyes look luminous and her lips inviting. Her hair was caught high on her head in a loose simple twist; the few silky tendrils that lay against her neck and face softened the overall look. The dress was nothing special, she didn’t want him to think she was trying to compete…with anyone.

For all the reaction she’d had from Matt when she had nervously walked into the room, she might just as well have stayed in her joggers. She, on the other hand, had been reduced to a gibbering wreck the moment she’d seen him. He wore a dark shirt open at the neck and a pair of well-cut, loosely tailored pants.

‘I’d much prefer to eat in my own room.’ Actually, she’d have sooner not eaten at all; her stomach was churning.

The panelled dining room was a charming room, but Kat was in no mood to appreciate her surroundings or the beautifully presented food. She was insanely, stupidly,
fatally
aware of how attractive the man opposite her was, to such an extent she could barely string two words together. Face facts, girl, she told herself. The man only has to look at you and you’re mush! It was pathetic, it was inexplicable, and it was a situation fraught with danger.

Matt watched her push the food around her plate. ‘I didn’t take you for a woman who picked at her food.’

Under normal circumstances he’d be right; under normal circumstances the comment wouldn’t have made her bristle angrily. These weren’t normal circumstances.

Kat dug her fork in a plump prawn and glared at it. She wasn’t seeing the shellfish but Emma, and her sleek slender figure. She slowly lifted grey, unfriendly eyes to his.

‘If you want to tell me I’m fat,’ she said with a little toss of her blonde head, ‘just go ahead, get it off your chest…I’m not touchy.’

Matt let out a long whistling breath from between clenched teeth. ‘I can tell.’

‘I’m quite happy with my body.’

Who wouldn’t be? Matt included himself in that observation. ‘I’m happy for you.’

‘I’ve absolutely no intention of starving myself to a size ten.’

‘I’m glad to hear it.’ He was getting the impression that she harboured suspicions he was a man who thought anything above an eight was gross.

Kat, suspecting he was laughing at her, searched his face suspiciously. He returned the look gravely.

‘Everything comes back into fashion eventually, so they say; I’m sure the same is true of the fuller figure.’ He pushed back in his chair, carefully crossed one leg over the other, and waited for the explosion.

He saw her open her mouth to verbally flay him and then close it again when she caught onto the fact he was winding her up.

When he grinned like that, Kat had a hard time remembering she wasn’t into shallow and meaningless relationships. Giving herself a sharp lecture on moral values, she hastily wiped the beginnings of a silly grin off her face.

‘So maybe I am touchy,’ she conceded grudgingly. ‘Which is another reason for me to eat in my room.’ She eagerly seized the excuse.

‘What, and add to the overworked staff’s workload. I’m shocked by your lack of consideration,’ he remonstrated.

Kat lifted her eyes from her plate and discovered a mocking glint mingled with the exasperation in his riveting blue eyes.

‘I didn’t mean that!’ she snapped.

‘I know what you meant.’

‘You do?’ Her body tensed.

‘You’d prefer to be anywhere but in the same room as me.’

‘I know you think the world revolves around you, but…’ The sarcastic denial withered on her tongue as she encountered the wry expression on his face. So maybe he wasn’t as bad as all that. ‘It’s nothing personal,’ she flung at him in an exasperated tone.

‘So you keep saying.’

‘I just don’t feel that sociable, and I’m used to going home at the end of a bad day…’ Her jerky gesture took in the elaborate candlelit dinner table.

He could have pointed out that she’d been sociable enough last night, when Joe had been a guest, and she hadn’t seemed actively seeking solitude when he’d discovered her that afternoon sitting relaxed and happy, her face alight with animation as she’d chatted with the extra help in the garden. Hell, he’d even heard her
giggle!
Predictably, she’d pokered up when she’d seen him.

It wasn’t as if he was jealous of a barely post-pubescent teenager…that was unthinkable. The truth was, waiting for her to make the first move was driving him slowly crazy. What if she didn’t…?

Matt had been turned down before—fewer times than was good for his humility, possibly, but he’d always accepted the fact with a philosophical shrug. He didn’t feel even vaguely philosophical when he thought of Kathleen remaining unattainable. And why is she unattainable? Me and my big mouth is why. God, if this doesn’t cure me of making grand gestures…

There was always the option of breaking his promise and making the first move. Yesterday he might have proudly sneered at the idea, only that had been a whole twenty-four hours ago. Today he’d experienced another long day and night—
especially night
—of wanting Kathleen so badly he could barely function. What was so great about pride, anyhow?

He looked up from his brooding contemplation of the bottom of his wine glass and discovered she was looking at him. God knew how long he’d been sitting there silently.

‘So it’s been a bad day…?’

‘Not
bad
exactly…’

‘But not good.’ For a moment the downward droop of his heavy eyelids concealed his expression from her. ‘Didn’t it cheer you up seeing your friend Emma?’

Not as much as it did you, she thought swallowing past the painful stricture in her throat. ‘It was nice to see her,’ she replied with cool constraint. ‘Did you find the session beneficial?’

‘Extremely illuminating,’ came the silky, ambiguous reply.

Before Kat could wonder what this enigmatic statement meant, he had changed the subject.

‘And where is home?’

What he actually wanted to ask but wouldn’t let himself was,
who
is at home? Despite her untouched air, Matt couldn’t believe there wasn’t some man waiting for a woman that looked like her… Why else would she be so anxious not to acknowledge the attraction between them?

Kat started; she hadn’t been expecting the question. She raised a trembling hand to the spot at the base of her slender throat where a pulse throbbed wildly against the pale skin.

‘You seem a little tense,’ he mused lightly.

Like I needed reminding!

‘I’m perfectly relaxed, thank you,’ she assured him coldly.

Was it any wonder she was strung out tighter than a tennis racket? Forget relaxing chats over wine and good food, this conversation was fast becoming an interrogation. Lacking the opportunity to come up with a credible lie, she blurted out the truth.

‘Just now, I suppose I’d have to say my suitcase is my home.’

She saw the tell-tale softening of his eyes and her chin went up angrily.

Great! Now not only does he think I’m a sexually repressed tease, he thinks I’m homeless, too…which I suppose, strictly speaking, I am.

‘I like it that way,’ she added fiercely. ‘It’s great being a free agent. I can do what I please; there’s nothing to hold me down.’

It didn’t sound particularly convincing, even to her. Kat hoped her remote expression would be discouraging enough to repress any inclinations Matt had to nose about some more into her personal affairs; which, when looked at objectively, were pretty much a mess.

‘And nobody?’

‘I’ve got plenty of friends.’

‘Like the lovely Emma.’ Smoothly, he reintroduced the brunette into the conversation.

Was it her imagination of was there a slight edge to his voice?

‘Like Emma,’ she agreed dully. Constantly dropping someone’s name into the conversation was a sure sign of interest, according to the article she’d read in the dentist’s waiting room the previous month.

‘So you like to slob out at the end of the day…?’

‘Relax,’
she corrected pedantically.

‘Me too. You should have said. We could have had supper picnic-style in front of the telly.’

Kat couldn’t shake the impossibly foolish image in her head of them picnicking on a rug in front of a roaring log fire—her fantasy had undergone a slight seasonal adjustment—Matt was feeding her a tasty titbit and he was laughing tenderly. She wasn’t the sort of girl who indulged in that sort of sickly, soft focus romanticism! Panic-stricken by the strength of the dream image’s appeal, she fought her way back to reality.

‘I couldn’t possibly relax with you,’ she protested hoarsely.

Matt looked more thoughtful than gutted by her unthinking response.

‘Never say never, Kathleen. Actually, I don’t think you’re being totally honest with me, are you?’ Maybe not with herself, either. ‘What’s the real reason you don’t want to eat with me?’

Kat’s clenched hands screwed up the edge of the white antique linen tablecloth into a tight ball. She supposed if push came to shove she could cope with him knowing how she felt…but did he have to say it out loud?

‘Come on,’ he urged, ‘cough!’

She managed a restrained choke.

‘Is it my table manners that offend you?’ he suggested jovially. ‘Or…?’ His brows drew together in a dark straight line as he apparently came up with another interpretation. ‘Is it my personal hygiene? Don’t be afraid to tell me; I can take it.’

Kat wasn’t sure she could. Just thinking about the distinctive male, musky smell of his body made her feel strange and light-headed. The unwanted sexual awareness had infiltrated every cell of her body—the process had taken a single heartbeat.

‘
Very funny.
I’m the hired help; this sort of thing—’ her gesture encompassed their elegant surroundings ‘—makes it look as if I’m being singled out for special treatment.’

‘Surely you wouldn’t condemn me to my own company,’ he taunted gently.

‘I wouldn’t condemn my worst enemy to your company!’ she snapped, taking refuge from frustration in a childish retort.

His spectacular eyes narrowed thoughtful slits. ‘Yet you sent Emma to me…’

At the third mention of Emma—Kat had been counting—she felt sick to the stomach. Her relentless imagination had already constructed the wedding scene, with Kat herself walking up the aisle in her bridesmaid dress.

‘It was just a figure of speech,’ she retorted, uncomfortable.

It hardly mattered what she said, Kat reflected gloomily. Whatever it was, Matt seemed able to turn it back on her.

‘You didn’t have a problem about sharing my table last night.’

‘Last night…’

‘Last night Joe came to supper, which meant you could ignore the fact I’m here.’

Kat dropped her fork. His perception was nothing short of scary.

‘I’m sorry if you felt left out, but Joe’s easy to talk to…’ Undemanding, amusing and, most importantly, he didn’t inspire any desire to rip off his clothes.

‘And you did talk…and talk, and talk…’ Matt lifted a languid hand to his mouth to stifle a theatrical yawn.

It was true Kat had felt a need to fill every dangerous silence with a constant stream of light inconsequential chatter.

‘The contrast is dramatic. Tonight you’ve barely opened your mouth.’ His willpower wasn’t inexhaustible, and his glance flickered hungrily to that tempting orifice. ‘And I’m not excluding eating, here.’